


This one for the man that raised me

by LittleSlugLand



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Father/Son Incest, M/M, alpha Zevulon, gender dysphoric omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29945820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSlugLand/pseuds/LittleSlugLand
Summary: There were many reasons why Zevulon Veers defected from the Imperial service.  The Rebel Alliance offered him the place he longed for in order to give him freedom to finally be himself and step out of his father's shadow. It worked well for him until his father was caught by the Alliance.
Relationships: Maximilian Veers/Zevulon Veers
Kudos: 11





	This one for the man that raised me

The Rebel Alliance welcomed him almost a year ago after his daring defection with the help of an old librarian daughter, whose father he had saved from Imperial clutches. Ex CompForce officer had to earn the trust and prove his loyalty, which he did in many battles against the Empire. The Empire represented everything Zevulon Veers despised and fought against. There was a very personal reason behind his revolutionary public persona. All his noble intention to bring freedom and justice to the Galaxy was an excuse to stand against his father, General Maximilian Veers. His father, the army poster boy, the heroic General and enforcer of Imperial doctrine, who was enabling young and innocent youths to fall for imperial propaganda and enlist. Zevulon never wanted to enlist but he was forced too. His mother would protest against it, if she lived. She was the voice of reason and represented everything dear to Zevulon. His father on the other hand was always the General. Too cold to show any fatherly love to his son. His father was always away fighting on some distant battlefields and returning home occasionally, when they sent him on leave due his injuries. Zevulon left all what Veers' name represented in the Empire behind and gave it the sour taste of treachery with his defection. Zevulon was building the new name for himself in the Rebel Alliance. His roommate bursted into their tiny room and tore a pad from his hands and pulled him out of his narrow cot. 

“Zevulon, Twilights are here! They got him! They got him!” The pantoran lieutenant was all bouncy. 

“What? Wait! Give it back!” He made lame attempt to get his datapad back. 

“Zevulon,” the excitement was palpable in the air “ they managed to ride an imperial outpost and capture a high ranking Imperial. Come you must see it.” Zevulon managed to button his tunic before he was dragged to the hangar. It seemed like everyone, who was not on duty was running with them. 

“I told you Zev, it is big. They finally managed to avenge Captain Evon by catching the big fish,” Zevulon wanted to punch his roommate as he was pulled through the cursing crowd of pilots. Zevulon made lame excuses, but they were racing again one sharp turn and they were in a hangar. 

The shouts and cheers were heard through the hangar. Zevulon had never seen so much happiness among Alliance personnel, he was witnessing now. 

“They got him!” or “I want him dead.” “ Kriffing Imp will pay!” was heard all round or worse in various languages Zevulon managed to understand and those he didn't have probably the same meaning. The Twilight company members were cheered and hugged by many after the successful mission. The spontaneous acts of camaraderie was contrasting from what Zevulon was used to in his imperial service. He still struggled with himself to accept it and embrace it. His thoughts were interrupted by the hug from a random technician, who kissed his cheek. 

“They have him, sir,” she said with excitement and disappeared in the growing mass of bodies. 

The multiracial crowd was still pouring in. There were many who survived Hoth, where their friends succumbed to imperial bloody purge. Those were the loudest shouting for the blood. The Twilights brought a particular prisoner with them. The Imperial General, whose name put fear and hate for what he represented in the hearts of many in the Alliance. Zevulon realized suddenly, whom they caught, but he still had a hope that it would be somebody else. He was wrestling his way through the mass of bodies to have a better view on the prisoner, they would soon drag from the transport. The hope died, when he saw him. He felt the looks of others. When they realized who Zevulon was and his relationship to the prisoner. He denounced his father a long time ago. He proved himself many times in the struggle for freedom. He realized no matter what he did, he would be still stuck with his father's legacy. The crowd went silent, when the escort with the prisoner appeared on the transport ramp and stared at his father in awe and a bit of shock. He had never thought he would see him ever again and if so, he hoped for the dead imperial not alive. 

General Maximilian Veers met someone’s fist or boot hard to tell from the swollen half of his bloodied face. His guards were making sure there was distance between him and the crowd. One shout about getting the Imp hanged right there rang through the silence only to be joined by another. The anger and need for vengeance was in the air. The elder Veers seemed to be indifferent to the danger he was in. Oblivious to the hate centered on him. He was marching like he was on the deck of some blasted ISD. The Iron Max to the core. Zevulon’s nose wrinkled. The smell he remembered was filling the air. His father´s strong alpha reek. The alpha smell, which was filling their house since Zevulon remembered. He still remembered the strict voice telling him about alpha´s superiority and duty to the others. The alphas are not weak, they are not showing emotions they are protecting. Zevulon held his breath. He cursed his sensitive alpha nose. He could smell his father even in the crowd. The stench of alpha who was ready to kill, but something was off. There was a strange undertone in his father's smell. The pheromones never lied. The fear. The excitement. The mating smell. All those emotional changes were part of alpha´s and omega´s biology. Beta´s was spared from the extreme pheromone discharge, their smell was bland. 

Zevulon thought it was out of nervousness. Suddenly, their eyes met. Zevulon was like a tooka under headlights. He was unable to divert his eyes from the intense gaze of his father, but the General was pushed down the corridor to the prison block away from him. What Alliance would do to his father was clear. He was a war criminal full of intel, which had to be extracted. It meant torture. Zevulon tried to convince himself, his father deserved what was coming to him. He was a pawn in the Imperial war machine. The day cycles were bad, but the nights were even worse. 

Zevulon ate his meal in mess, when he heard whispers of the prison block guards. The thing he overheard shook Zevulon to the core. The Imp was omega. They found out just recently, when suppressant waned out of his system the omegan nature was resurfacing, which meant heat. They joked about sex crazed omega, who would tell everything in exchange for good knot. Zevulon felt nauseous and put his fork down. His father was alpha. He behaved like alpha. He smelled like alpha. His beta mother was telling him his father was her beloved alpha. It was a lie. Question was why? His mother definitely had to know his father´s secondary sex, yet she played his game. Some omegas were defective. He heard. They were not content with their role in society. They wanted to get out from cofiness of their homes. Omegas were meant to be protected not being soldiers. He had to find out. It was easy to sneak to the prison block. It was the Alliance, not the Empire. They slack here and there making it easy for what he planned. His nose hit the smell, which rose in waves the sugary sweet warm smell of omega, with sour undertones of distress. Zevulon´s alpha nature wanted to protect the omega in danger or...to his own horror...to knot omega. His friend on guarding duty was more than happy to show him feed with the Imp. It was a shock to see his father curled in the corner all sweaty and shaking with approaching heat symptoms. 

“This omega is crazy! I can tell you. Who would let omega in the army?” The question was answered by another guard “Only Imps would let omega in charge. Crazy omegas who pose as alphas must be locked up. This one killed two of our men with his hands and teeth. Crazy omegan bitch.” 

Zevulon looked at them. It was true, the Empire let omegas choose freely, what they want to do with their lives unlike the fallen Republic. It made sense now, why his father was serving the regime with such dedication. Alliance was claiming to protect omegas from exploration and giving them a secure place unlike the Empire. He looked at his father and he knew what he had to do. The plan was simple. Getting him out. Zevulon had to act fast before the heat hit fully. His training served him well and the bodies of the guard dropped. He never thought dragging delirious omega on the hover stretcher through service corridors to the hangar, would be the peak of his bravery. It was. The small shuttle darted from the hangar and the roar of alarm was left behind. They made hyperspace jump a seconds before they could be shot to the pieces. 

“You will be … fine, “ He said and sat next to his father on the narrow stretcher. Zevulon tried to ignore the luring smell which was around the elder Veers. The omega pheromones soaked the shuttle and made Zevulon´s blood boil. He took a rag and started to clean his father´s sweat covered face. It was terrifying to see his proud and always collected father like this. His father was clawing on his clothes in desperate need for cool air to lessen the heat and pain. The eyes were unfocused and the sounds he made were the worst. Needy gasps and soft throaty moans as he rubbed against the stretcher. Zevulon remembered vaguely how dangerous it was for omega to come to heat after years on suppressant. It could even kill the omega. The slick soaked jodhpurs were not making it easier. 

“I got you out… you are safe,” Zevulon said and it sounded so hollow.

“Yes, alpha,” the words were not well chosen for Zevulon´s alpha nature. Omega in heat needed only one thing. Alpha´s knot. To subdue the hormonal storm in omega´s body. 

Zevulon wished to pay more attention in biology class at Academy. He had to figure something. Anything which would help his father aside what nature demanded. There should be something else than alpha´s knot. There was nothing. Alliance shuttles were not equipped for omegan heats emergencies. The alpha was needed, the problem was the only alpha around was Zevulon. The omega in heat could induce rut in the alpha. Zevulon took a deep breath. He went very far to save his father's life and now he was in danger to witness him succumb to unanswered heat. His father pressed against him desperately. The unfocused eyes rolled up and the white showed. Zevulon needed to keep his father focused or rather himself focused. Zevulon tried to ignore the way his cock throbbed in his pants, the surge of hormones coursing through his system responding to the luring smell of omega. He glanced over at his father, his hands curled to the fists pressed against his tights unsure what to do for a heartbeat. 

“Too hot,” he heard gasps. Zevulon had to cool his father´s body somehow. Why his brains became so slow. He had to undress him. It meant to touch him. It meant to get in contact with slick. He had to keep their minds occupied. 

“How long have you been on suppressants?” Zevulon asked carefully, while helping his father to undress. The pheromones were making his mind sluggish, but he had to resist. Zevulon had to stay strong at least for the first time in his short and wretched life. 

“Too long…,” his father, no the omega, whined and tugged him down “alpha?” 

“Father, try to focus...please,” Zevulon stood up and paced back and forth in a tiny passenger´s cabine. 

“Zevulon?” his father muttered and tried to focus. The struggle was seen on his face. He even tried to reach for his uniform jacket to cover himself.

“Father, yes it is me” Zevulon stopped in front of him.

“You… you must get away…alpha,” his father's voice was betraying the desperate battle he was waging against his omegan nature. “You ...need to drop ...me... at the nearest imperial garrison.”

“No, father! I will not. You are in no condition to … be able to protect yourself and the first alpha you would encountered would want to pin you down and fuck you open. That was what those bastards wanted to do when they found out you are an omega.” Zevulon said harshly without realizing how possessive he sounded. It had to hit something in his father whose eyes focused on Zevulon. 

“Alpha´s instinct...made you drag me from the hole your...Rebel comrades threw me into. Not that I am your father you have betrayed, but omega in heat” the intonation was still omegan but on the edge was his hint of his father´s commanding alpha´s tone. Zevulon heard betas and omegas talking about the natural alphas authority, how aluring it was and how sexy it was. Zevulon had to be a defective alpha, because nobody told anything like that about him. 

“Alpha instinct has nothing to do…”Zevulon met his father´s eyes and he knew it was a lie as soon as he blurred it out. The smell of heat was wearing the patience thin and barriers were crumbling. “I can restrain… myself because you are my father, but few others would ever make such an effort on your behalf General Maximilian Veers.” Another lie but this time said with alpha´s intonation. His father was clutching his uniform jacket in his lap. Trying to find something to focus on, but most likely hiding hormone induced hard on and gushing slick. They were staring at each other for a minute or more. Zevulon could not tell, before his father collapsed and was caught by him just before he could hit the ground. The closeness, the warmth of the omega in heat was too much to bear. The rut. Zevulon experienced the rush of rut during his puberty and one unwanted in the Academy, but there were always hormone blockers to subdue cursed Alpha´s nature. He remembered the need and the possessiveness over desired partner. It was back, but without medical back up. Zevulon growled and without second thought he kissed his father deeply. 

“Omega,” Zevulon growled, so much for restraint. His higher brain function ceased to exist and he focused on omega in heat. He vaguely recalled that some self control should stay, but he would ponder on it later. There was omega. His omega to claim. He never thought kissing could be a thing. The omega was struggling at the beginning almost managing to get free but was too weak to do so. The smell, the touches were making the trick. When Zevulon´s fingers poked on the source of copious amounts of slick. Instinct told him, he should bury himself deeply there. His father's eyes lost their spark and were glassy. His hands reached for Zevulon. He caught them. The instinct took fully over his father. Finally, the omega nature won if not Zevulon would take the unwilling omega anyway. The omega moaned and moved a bit. Rather crawled on the floor moving his ass in the air with an old instinct of omegas to present themselves. It was heat talking. Zevulon knew his father was not himself anymore. Which meant only one thing. Zevulon could have omega and omega would do anything to ease the heat. They would solve the morals of the story later after hours of knotting. Zevulon undressed fast and let his alpha nature take the reins. The rut was harsh mistress. Zevulon was here for the omega, who came apart on his knot over and over. He had no idea how long they mated, when finally omega fell asleep. Zevulon grasped the last of his sanity in his hormones overridden brain and was shocked by what he had done and with whom. 

“What would his father do when the heat ends?” It was hammering in his brain. How would Zevulon explain himself. It was always alpha´s fault, they said in the Academy, but in Alliance they told him it was a seductive omega to be put in blame. Zevulon shook his head, he had to do what he had to do. He had to save omega in distress. It was not the fault of omega. The supresants were taken from him, that was the cause. The first part of the moral hangover was solved. The second one would not be that easy. Zevulon was not an expert on omegas and how they were behaving after heat or if it was normal for them to have chills. He was dealing with a distressed omega, who was slowly coming to his senses. Even in such a state his father would end him faster than Zevulon could utter his name, which would perhaps be fitting after what he did to him. He rummaged through their tiny ship to find every possible blanket and pillow. The nest. He should make a nest sort of. He was painfully oblivious to omegan biology and needs. Only thing he knew was omega, who was too long on suppressant and alpha hormones would need some special care. He was arranging the loot around omega curled in the fetal position on the bare floor. It was not natural to see his father like that. His supposed alpha father was always in charge of everything since Zevulon remembered and ruled over their household and Zevulon´s life until the fateful day of his defection. He thought he should somehow know, that something was off, but how? His mother always called his father playfully my alpha and was smoothing things, when his father was too much in alpha mode or seemed too emotional distant. She was beta, but had the sweet and warm nature, which could be associated with omega. If there was anything positive about his father, which Zevulon could think of. It was a relationship he shared with his mother. Male alphas and female betas could have children, but for beta females and omega males it was impossible to conceive a child. His father was supposed to be alpha. All would be easy and Zevulon would not defect for the second time. Why did Maximilian Veers complicate everything for him? He opened the med pac and typed on the pad the post heat emergencies. Keep omega warm, safe and hydrated. Warmth was provided. Safe, that was a question. There was nothing about omegas murdering alphas in post heat haze, but also there was nothing about alphas being sons of said omegas. Zevulon covered his father with an additional blanket. He curled behind him in an alpha protective manner. The instinct, he thought but was too tired to think too hard about it when he dozed off. 

“Zevulon?” The whisper jolted Zevulon awake.

“Yes?” Zevulon answered and wished to be light years away.

“We need to talk,” his father did not move, but it was him. The voice despite tiredness was unmistakably all General Veers. 

“I guess so,” Zevulon sat up and took a water bottle and pressed it in his father's hand “drink first. I read that,” he blushed “that fluids are needed.” 

How his father managed to look so calm and collected was beyond Zevulon comprehension. He was sitting there covered with blankets sipping water, like it was the most natural thing to do. 

“I am omega, ” the fact which could not be denied after what they went through. 

“I have noticed, father if you are my father,” Zevulon replied and added “ my mother was beta. I think I deserve some explanation.”

“Your mother always knew,” he replied and pulled his knees closer to his body, “When my secondary gender was revealed. I was devastated. I always felt like alpha and being omega. It shattered me. My parents were very open minded and blockers and alpha hormones were arranged. I told your mother of course. She did not mind and for her I was her alpha as for the rest of the galaxy. “

“Mom was just feeding an illusion in the mind of omega,” Zevulon wanted to sound disgusted but he could not. “The Empire is going against nature by allowing omegas to get out of the household and even be in the military.”

“Zevulon Veers, you are a moron,” his father said seriously. Zevulon expected some ideological sermon and some omega rights bragging, but nothing like that happened. 

“Omegas are…,” Zevulon stammered.

“Weak? Simple minded? House ornaments to be locked down and on mercy of their alphas? Less than slaves?” His father never made things easy even now. 

“No of course not. I am sorry for that and everything,” Zevulon did many things recently he should be sorry about. It was typical of him. He did something and it ended with disaster in one way or another and was dressed down by his father by the end of the day. 

“I guess we both should be sorry for that and everything, “ elder Veers took a swing from the bottle. 

“There was a man, who was visiting us. Naval captain who was very friendly to me and to mom,” Zevulon remembered the friend of the family, who was bringing gifts to him everytime he visited Veerses household. 

“Your sire,” his father replied,” we wanted a child and there was only one way how to do it and he agreed but wanted to see you from time to time.” 

“That is ..” Zevulon wanted to say sick, but stopped himself. His mother wanted a child and that was only what mattered to his father. He approached it with typical Veers´ straightforwardness. He found an alpha Zevulon´s mother approved. Zevulon snatched the bottle from his father's hand and took a swing wishing it was something alcoholic and very strong. 

“She knew him and I knew him. I would do anything to… keep your mother happy even if it meant to ... stop suppressants and alpha hormones,” the bottle exchanged the owner “I am alpha, not omega and when the omegan nature resurfaced. It was unbearable. Only thing which kept me going was your mother and looking forward to having you.” 

“Now you will tell me, you changed into a sweet nesting omega coddling the pup,” Zevulon tried to jab his father, but it was hollow. He remembered the smell from his early childhood. The sweet warm smell of honey and milk. The smell left him abruptly only emptiness remained. It was the first strong emotion he remembered in his life, the loss. 

“I never thought, it could be possible,” was not a reply Zevulon expected, “I have always despised being omega, but it changed when I had you. It was natural and I wanted to .. but service called and things went back to…”

“Normal?” Zevulon interjected. 

“I suppose so,” was the reply “With the war upon us and your sire far away. We decided to wait till things would go calmer. I was not too keen either to repeat the experience any time soon after I was forced to leave pup behind.” 

“Should it make me feel sorry for you?” The bitterness in Zevulon´s voice was almost palpable “You have never been a good parent anyway.”

“You have never been a good pup anyway,” a dry reply stung “if your mother saw what you did in the academy and the soiling Veers name by defecting to rebels. It would kill her all over.” 

Zevulon recalled all their spats in the past. They started in similar fashion. It was time to grow up. He reached out and arranged a blanket around his father's shoulders. 

“You are right. Two alphas in the same household. That is a trouble, father,” Zevulon out of the impulse kissed his cheek lightly “Take a rest. I would try to figure out where to drop you. The Empire needs you for its glorious war or something. After all your place is with the army and it always was. Mom and I just borrowed you from them.” 

He didn't wait for the reply. The verbal sparring lost its meaning after the things he had done to his father. The omegan smell was too pleasant and too luring for him. It was not heat or rut speaking, but something else, which was unwelcomed. Zevulon sunk into the pilot chair. It took him quite a long time to pull himself together. They were in the middle of nowhere and the nearest Imperial garrison small enough to not waste resources on chasing deserters, but sufficient for dropping the General was on Tatooine of all places. It would take them several standart weeks to get there. He set the autopilot and ventured back to inform his father only to find him in a makeshift nest sleeping. The instinct was a harsh mistress. Zevulon should return back to the cockpit. There were many shoulds. He kneeled next to his father, who lazily opened his eyes. The smell. The look. Zevulon lost the battle again. The last clear thought was to get his father back to the Empire, what came next was all about teeth and alpha claiming a very willing omega. 

“It is the heat, “ his father said when they were laying naked next to each other catching their breath. The white lie to placate what was left from their conscience. Zevulon decided to believe in it for the rest of their flight. The alpha in him wanted to claim the omega and never let omega go, but it was impossible. He sniffed him from time to time. The smell changed a bit. It became sweeter. They landed at Mos Eisley´ spaceport as one of the many anonymous travelers. His father insisted on keeping a low profile and his uniform was replaced with cargo pants and work jacket he had requisitioned from the cargo hold. The rank bar and officer´s cylinder were hidden in his pocket. 

“The garrison here is small, but they have means to arrange my travel back to civilisation,” his father said and put the belt with a blaster holster around his hips. He checked the weapon before holstering it. 

“You don't sound happy about it, “ Zevulon remarked and walked with him out of their ship “I can not go with you to the Empire or go to Rebels. I make my mind you know. I was always a bit rogue to be bossed around.”

“I make sure you will have enough credits to … disappear Zevulon. To live somewhere in safety far away from…” the General was back. Zevulon hated it, but understood it. 

“Come, we will have a decent meal somewhere, before we part our ways,” Zevulon felt helpless, his alpha nature roared inside him. He had to keep omega instead he was letting omega go. The omega with the alpha´s soul who made his blood boil with need.

“I miss a decent meal that is not Rebel´s chow,” his father said dreamily. “I would kill for a fresh glass of blue milk with a bit of bantha butter melted in it.” 

“Whatever floats your boat,” Zevulon replied and they walked out of the spaceport. The street was crowded and there were shouts all around. The holonews were blasting from the tavern and his father walked briskly toward the open door. The battle was broadcasted together with the standard imperial propaganda. 

“It is the Death Squadron,” whispered his father as they squeezed behind the small table. His eyes were glued at the broad cast. Zevulon sighed and ordered the desired milk and picked the food, which seemed safe from the menu. The waitress gave him a strange look and made a small sniff. Zevulon showed her teeth, before he could control himself. 

“Calm down stranger,” she replied and disappeared in the crowd. 

The smell hit his nose. The smell of distressed omega. The sweet smell of honey and milk was swept by the sudden release of pheromones. On the holoscreen the pride of the imperial navy crashed into the Death Star. Zevulon looked at his father, who had his hand pressed against his mouth. It was like he was preventing himself from making any sound. The patrons around them, those with secondary gender started to sniff the air. The omega around meant in such hell hole the credits. The omegan slaves were desired. 

“We must go,” Zevulon said but it was too late. The hands were already on his father and whispers turned into the shouting about claiming the omega. What happened next stunned Zevulon. His father moved into action. The nearest alpha who dared to approach him met his fist square in the face, the other got a good old kick between his legs. The fight was short and bloody. The circle around them widened.

“Don't dare to touch me, you bastards!” his father howled. The pain was in his voice but not because he was hurt. The anger was distorting his face and he clearly sought for blood of whomever tried to get close to him. “Only my alpha can. Back off. He will…” The voice broke with bottled emotions. 

“Lets go, “ Zevulon stepped in and gently took his father by the elbow and practically dragged him out. He noticed in his peripheral vision the explosion on holonews. The Death Star. It was gone. His father let himself be dragged through the streets, which was filled with the inhabitants. Calling for the blood of anybody in imperial uniform. The celebration and the massacre started. Zevulon was pushing them through the crowd to the spaceport. They had to leave or be just another pair of the mangled corpses at the side of the road. Zevulon sometimes wondered if he was cursed or extremely lucky or both. They managed to get inside of their ship.

“Sit, “ he shouted and to his shock his father did as was told. On the floor. 

Their ship darted to the sky. Zevulon punched the coordinates. They had to go to the place where nobody would look for them, where they could disappear. The blue of the hyperspace danced behind the cockpit window. It was time to check on his father. He found him where he left him sitting on the floor laying against the wall. The face blank. The smell acrid. 

“I am sorry,” Zevulon whispered and sat next to him. He knew how it was when everything crumbled around him or at least he thought he knew. 

“Your sire is dead,” those words were the last thing Zevulon expected. 

“I know. So does the Empire for you,” he replied and touched his father's hand. 

“So does the Empire for me,” his father replied. Zevulon nodded and gently kissed him and tugged him in the narrow cot. The smell of distress was clawing on Zevulon's soul. He wondered what changed in him. When he stopped to hate his father. What was the turning point? The urge of their biology or something else.

“We will have a fresh start, where nobody knows us,” Zevulon whispered to him “I will…make things right for us.”

“Stop to babble Zevulon Veers,” his father's voice had its old edge, which suddenly was the most pleasant sound in Zevulon´s little pit of despair.

“Getting better, General?” Zevulon replied with a smile and sniffed the air. There was a warm undertone in the air, all honey and milk. The smell of distress was still there but ebbing. 

“Calmer,” came the reply. 

“You smell better. More sweetly than before. I will miss it, when we get your blockers and alpha hormones,” Zevulon had to respect his peculiar omegan father. If he felt as alpha, he would do anything to make sure he would be provided with everything he needed. 

“Keeping my mind focused on something else than my misery?”

“Yes, dad something like that. We will start fresh and forget what happened you know...my stupidity and the heat thing,” Zevulon made a nervous gesture with his hand. 

“Zevulon Veers, I am not backing off from responsibility and you will not too,” the alpha general was talking now. 

“The Empire is dead for you, sir and I am the defector from both sides,” Zevulon replied and braced himself for the good old fight, which suddenly welcomed well known territory. 

“I will not return with the fat belly to the Empire or what was left from it. Also taking the blockers is out of question. It is harmful for your pup, alpha.” 

Zevulon Veers felt the cabin to spin around him and the artificial gravity was suddenly too strong. He was opening and closing his mouth like a fish on the land, when the meaning of the words sunk in his brain. 

“The blue milk with bantha butter?” Zevulon whispered. His father hated blue milk with passion and sudden craving for it was strange.

“And the test,” came the amused reply and the bottle smelling of rum was pulled from the hiding place and handed to him. Zevulon took the swing and another before wiping his mouth with his sleeve. 

“No liquor for you. Plenty of rest and no emotional strain and,” Zevulon was trying to sound like he knew what he was doing, which he was not. 

“Zevulon Veers fatherhood will do you good and I hope pup will be like you rebellious and give you plenty of gray hair,” there was mischief in his father's voice. 

Zevulon realised it was true. It would definitely do him good.

**Author's Note:**

> My first and very last ABO. Enjoy and comment.


End file.
